Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
J asper’s eyes burned with exhaustion. He felt far too many things for him to bloody well focus . His mind and heart were filled with worry over Francis’ newest letter, but there was also joy—and, if he were honest, hope —for the progression of his connection with Maria. His chest ached, his skin felt far too tight, and his spine tingled from top to bottom.
Climbing the steps of the Bow Street building, he rapped his knuckles against the door, and stood back. Despite himself, he glanced over his shoulder into the bustling street. He scanned the patrons, but didn’t see anyone that resembled Francis.
The door swung open, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good day, James,” Jasper said. “Are Miss Huntsbury and Miss Roberts in?”
The young footman nodded and opened the door wider, bowing deeply. “She’s in the?—”
“Your Grace!” Miss Huntsbury stood in the doorway to their offices. “Whatever is the matter?”
He marched across the foyer. “I received another letter from Francis, and I’m…” His voice trailed off. I’m worried .
She hummed. “Do you recall the quote?”
“I do, yes.”
With a swift gesture, she turned and ushered him inside. To Jasper’s surprise, Thomas sat upon a settee, his pale features appearing warmer in the golden sunlight through one of the large windows.
“Good day to you, Thomas.” He nodded at the man.
Thomas grimaced, but replied with an affable “Good day, Your— grunt— Grace.”
“Please be seated, Your Grace.” Miss Huntsbury took the armchair to Thomas’ right, and Jasper sat opposite. She adjusted a portable writing desk on her knees and dipped a pen in ink. “The quote?”
Jasper recalled the note—and the bolded letter—while their footman delivered tea.
Miss Huntsbury hummed. “I do not see any obvious way to interpret the quotes as hints at a location. They’re certainly visual and visceral, but they seem more to me like threats. I daresay Maria was correct: R , F , O , N , J , and now E are a form of nomen deminutivum intended to spell for Jean . I imagine Maria will have some more insight, but for the moment, we oughtn’t waste more time attempting to decode something undoubtedly meant to distract us.”
Jasper’s heart gave a squeeze, and he sipped at his rapidly cooling cup of tea. The tepid liquid, while suddenly flavourless, would aid in keeping him awake for the next several hours.
The silence was broken only by Thomas’ soft grunts, clicks, and the rustle of fabric when his body twitched.
“My apologies for interrupting,” the footman—James—said from the doorway, “but an urgent missive just arrived for Miss Roberts.”
Miss Huntsbury surged to her feet and accepted the proffered letter with a murmur of thanks. Her eyes widened with hope as she noted the direction. “This is from Maria’s correspondent in the magistrate’s office.” With a swift motion, she broke the seal and read aloud.
Miss Roberts,
I’m so grateful for your friendship…
“Et cetera, et cetera,” Miss Huntsbury hummed as she scanned ahead.
I confess I’ve suspected Sir Vaughan’s involvement for some time, but I had not known to whom I should speak. When I broached the subject of Mr. Sinclair’s suspicious escape from the noose with Sir Vaughan, he made threats against my dear papa—who is already quite ill, you see. He then informed me that as I now knew and am employed by him, I would be implicated and hung alongside him should he be caught. I’ve been so frightened to speak to anyone, and I do so worry over my papa’s health should he learn the truth…
“S-s-sodding hell,” Thomas breathed, his left eye giving a hard blink.
“Too damned right,” Miss Huntsbury agreed, scanning further and flipping the parchment over.
Once he knew I was too fearful to speak out, Sir Vaughan began to confide in me. He outlined his and Mr. Sinclair’s plans to use forged documents to prove his legitimacy while simultaneously discrediting the Duke of Derby—posthumously. In return for Sir Vaughan’s aid, Mr. Sinclair, as the new duke, would support Sir Vaughan’s attempt to remove Lord Liverpool as Prime Minister…
Miss Huntsbury stopped reading, letting her hands fall to her sides as she stared in shock at Jasper.
Heart drumming against his chest and breath coming fast, Jasper cursed soundly. “This is worse than we thought. Sir Vaughan needs to be stopped, and I… Hell , I’ve been updating him on our sodding actions!”
“You couldn’t have known, Your Grace,” Miss Huntsbury replied soothingly. “But you’re correct: this is, indeed, worse than we’d thought. I must seek out the aid and advice of my previous employer. Leave the magistrate to me.”
“Might I inquire as to what tasks you assigned to Maria this morning?” Jasper asked. “She must be made aware of this news, and I’d hoped that we would discuss our next steps after our failure to capture Francis last night.”
The frown on Miss Huntsbury’s brow was swift. “I have not yet heard from her.”
It was Jasper’s turn to frown. “Might she still be abed? She would have written her article as soon as I brought her home, but she was to send it in with a messenger…” A bead of icy perspiration travelled down his spine, spreading gooseflesh over his skin in its wake. He turned to Thomas. “You don’t suppose,” he gritted out, “she would have attempted to return to your apartments for a change of attire and deliver the article by hand, do you?”
Thomas’ face turned ashen. “Grace told her n-n-n— click— not to. Surely she wouldn’t be— grunt— so rash.”
The worry in the man’s eyes, however, told Jasper that she would be that rash.
Jasper surged to his feet, spilling some of his cold tea on the tip of his Hessians. “Thomas, have you your key? I’m going in search of her.”
* * *
Maria was swirling, floating around an echoing room that was filled with the voice of— Francis ? Oh no . The knowledge was alarming, and yet she couldn’t seem to muster the concern…couldn’t seem to focus . Where was she? What was Francis doing?
She lay on her side, her eyelids too heavy to open, and could scarcely feel where her body connected to a hard, flat surface.
“… will be so very worried after he sees the remains of the fire.”
What fire? Oh yes. The one at her apartments. Had Francis started that? Perhaps he had. And who would be worried?
Damn, but she couldn’t shake this mental fog. She was heartbroken about the fire, she knew, but at the moment, her heart remained unmoved. In fact, she was rather unconcerned about her current circumstance in its entirety.
“We’ll send him a little gift,” Francis was saying, his voice growing nearer.
She felt his warmth as he knelt on the ground beside her. Am I on the ground? A part of her thought that she ought to pull away from him, should fight back, but she felt neither the ability nor the inducement to move.
One by one, her hairpins were removed from her chignon, the tightness against her scalp gradually easing. A hand slipped beneath her head, gathering her hair at the back of her head.
“No need to take it all just yet.”
Snick .
“There,” Francis purred. “This will be a nice gift for your paramour.”
The shifting of fabric sounded loud in the quiet space as he moved away and returned. Something cold pressed to her lips—a spoon, she realized—and poured liquid into her mouth.
“We cannot have you awakening and causing yet more trouble for me.”
Maria didn’t care, truly, but there was a small part of her mind that made her hold the liquid in her cheek and feign a swallow. Mayhap, then, she could finally think beyond the dratted fog.
Francis rose and turned away, and Maria slowly let the liquid dribble from the corner of her mouth.
* * *
“ Stop !” Jasper hollered to his coachman as they neared Maria’s apartments in Cheapside.
“My God,” Thomas breathed.
The carriage rolled to a stop on the narrow, crowded street, the scents of urine, bitter ale, and smoke hitting Jasper as he stepped from the carriage. His gaze was riveted on Maria’s building.
“When did this— grunt —fire— grunt —happen?” Thomas asked a vendor selling questionable-looking vegetables.
“Just this mornin’,” the man replied with a soft Scottish burr.
Jasper’s feet hit the cobblestones hard as he ran toward the building’s entrance. Thomas was slow to follow, his pale features contorted in a grimace as he retrieved a key from his borrowed coat. But the door was already open, hanging from its hinges. Beads of perspiration formed on Jasper’s upper lip, and he swiped angrily at them.
The stairs were charred in places, and creaked under his weight as he stormed to the next floor. Her door hung open at an unnatural angle, and Jasper’s heart hiccoughed. Palms beginning to sweat and fingers trembling, he walked into the scorched room.
Thomas let out a throaty sob, his hands covering his mouth as he took in the damage. “Maria must be— grunt, grunt —devastated. Her everything was— click, grunt —in this apartment.” He gasped and turned his wide eyes on Jasper. “You d-d— click —don’t suppose she— grunt —was here , do you?”
Jasper scanned the room, his heart twisted in agony at the thought, when something caught his eye. Among the burnt rubble was a flash of cream parchment. And a dagger. His stomach dipped.
Without a word, he strode to the poisoned note and removed the dagger.
Thomas sniffed. “What does it say?”
The note shook in Jasper’s gloved hands as he read aloud.
“ Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you A re men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heaven’s vault should crack. She’s gone forever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She’s dead as earth. ”
“Oh m-m-m— click —my God.” Thomas’ voice caught on a sob. “Maria’s dead !”
Jasper’s breath quickened, the ache in his heart mounting into a deep, sharp pain.
He shook his head, unwilling to believe it. “Francis wouldn’t harm her without first ensuring that I would be there to witness it. His goal is torture of the mind, and this ”—he shook the parchment—“would ensure just that.”
Thomas’ eyes glinted with anger and widened with fear. “You mean t— grunt —to say that that b-b-b— click, grunt —bastard has taken her?”
Perspiration tickled the skin along his spine, and an irksome tingling began at the backs of his knees.
“How could we let this h-h-h-happen? How— grunt, grunt —could you ?” Thomas turned an accusatory glare on Jasper. “Y-y-you brought— click —the b-bastard into her life!”
Guilt swelled in Jasper’s chest. “You’re right, Thomas. But Maria is courageous and intelligent. She’ll no doubt have already begun planning her escape.”
It was his turn to step into the role of command, to prove his worth as a partner.
“We’ll find her,” he asserted.
“ How , when you’ve— grunt, click, grunt —heretofore been unable to— grunt —find?—”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Mr. M?” A short, slight young man stood hesitantly in the doorway, a wrapped parcel in his hand.
Thomas flicked a sideways glance at Jasper before stepping forward, his hand extended. “Good— grunt— afternoon, Rupert.”
“I’m right sorry ’bout yer ’ome.” The man placed the parcel into Thomas’ awaiting hands. “That’s the last manuscript with the signatures, and the first printed copy.”
Thomas nodded tightly, his shoulder muscles stiff and spine erect. “Thank you.”
“Boss says it’s a pleasure doin’ business.” The man doffed his hat and made his way from the building.
Curiosity seared through Jasper, but the mysterious package was of little importance when it came to the current threat to Maria’s life.
“We must recruit help,” Jasper said into the brief moment of silence.
Thomas turned. “What would— grunt, click —you suggest?”